


Cataclysm

by ladydragon76, NKfloofiepoof



Series: Storm Season [5]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Character Death, M/M, Off-screen Rape, Violence, barbarian au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:08:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21636394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladydragon76/pseuds/ladydragon76, https://archiveofourown.org/users/NKfloofiepoof/pseuds/NKfloofiepoof
Summary: Summary:Tragedy struck a neighboring clan while Megatron was busy meeting the Dynobots and pointing them toward the Silver Waters.  Two survivors stumbled into his lands as the second storm of the season roiled heavy in the sky above.
Relationships: Jazz/Megatron, Ratchet/Wheeljack
Series: Storm Season [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/594169
Comments: 14
Kudos: 97





	Cataclysm

**Author's Note:**

> To be clear. This Barbarian AU is based upon the Fantasy/DnD Barbarian Trope and no inspiration was taken from ANY Native or Indigenous cultures. In fact. All references to life in the 'wilds', living in huts or tents, hunting for food, raising animals to eat, fighting with other clans, and 'bride' napping come from the author's own genetic history of 'white' Germanic Celts. For more information on this and WHY I am posting this additional note, [please click](https://ladydragon76.dreamwidth.org/360515.html) these [links](https://ladydragon76.dreamwidth.org/360853.html) which will take you to [my DW](https://ladydragon76.dreamwidth.org/364230.html). Further information can be found if you feel like digging through [my Twitter](https://twitter.com/LadyDraconis76) for it. Oh, and [this one too](https://ladydragon76.dreamwidth.org/364531.html).
> 
> To answer 'why Barbarian and not Nomad?'
> 
> 1\. Barbarian AU is a VERY accurate trope description to anyone familiar with Fantasy Fiction. It says exactly what sorts of tropes I'll be using.
> 
> 2\. 'Nomad' is not and never will be used by me for two reasons.  
> a. It is inaccurate. VERY few of the clans in my fics are nomadic.  
> b. There are ACTUAL, REAL, LIVING human people who ARE nomadic and I am NOT writing about them, nor do I take inspiration from their cultures.
> 
> 3\. The only other description that comes close, and remains accurate-ish is 'Tribal'. Which I will never use because there are ACTUAL, REAL, LIVING human people who are tribal, and I am NOT writing about them, nor do I take inspiration from their cultures.
> 
> **'Verse:** IDW  
>  **Series:** Storm Season  
>  **Rating:** NC-17  
>  **Characters:** Ratchet/Wheeljack, Megatron/Jazz, Cyclonus, Tailgate  
>  **Warnings:** AU, Non-Con, Sticky, Sparks,  
>  **Notes:** We decided in editing Captivated that the scenes we had for Ratchet, Jazz, Wheeljack, and Tailgate just took too much focus away from the Dynobots and Starscream. It was an easy choice to edit this and expand it into a story of its own. ^_^ 
> 
> "Speaking" = Neocybex  
> //Speaking// = Clan language  
> "Speaking" = Comms  
> ::Speaking:: = Bondspeak

Ratchet glanced up at the dark, roiling clouds to the north. They were coming closer. The storm was building as it moved toward them, and that only added to the anxiety the healer felt. Mix in the ache from his -albeit minor- injuries and the gaping hole in his spark, and Ratchet was ever so frelling _done_. He followed Jazz as they crossed into territory they shouldn’t ever have set foot in, nervous and tense.

Jazz said he knew Megatron moved his people into the plateau's caves during storm season to avoid the floods on the plains, and Ratchet didn’t want to know how he knew that. He shouldn't know that. There was an empty buffer zone all along the west side of the plateaus that Megatron’s clan never hunted on, and Ratchet's clan- _former_ clan never hunted east of. There had been tension between the two clans for as long as the healer could recall. Ratchet didn’t even know what started it, though it could probably be laid at his late chieftain's feet. Shadelock had cared for his people, but he had certainly isolated them from other clans with his dislike of strangers. 

//Are you _sure_ this is a good idea?// Ratchet asked as they made their way up the incline. They were right out in the open, making no effort at all to conceal themselves. They _had_ to have been spotted by now. Surely. And that made Ratchet very, very nervous. Megatron could be as bad as Galvatron. For all Ratchet knew, he was, he just hadn't thought to overrun his westerly neighbors yet.

//Not really,// Jazz admitted, his expression grim. //Don't really got any other options though.//

 _He has to be aching_ , Ratchet thought, optics once again roaming Jazz's battered frame. //That's reassuring,// he grumbled, but Jazz was right. What other choice did they have?

They had both been moving, steadily, if exhaustedly, since before dawn. Anger surged up again as Ratchet remembered the sharp, quickly cut-off cry of alarm which had awakened him. Galvatron, honorless, rust-sucking bit of slag that he was, had attacked in the middle of the night without a single hint of warning. Ratchet knew they were lucky to be alive- incredibly lucky. It had only been Wheeljack's quick thinking and actions that saved Ratchet and Jazz. Wheeljack had thrown a cluster of crystals at them and ignited it without so much as a warning yell.

The explosion had been impressive, and it had taken Ratchet and Jazz a while to dig themselves free of the collapsed hut once they regained consciousness. By that time, everything was over. What had once been a stable, quiet village was nothing but a smoking ruin.

Anger died in Ratchet to be replaced by a feeling of hopelessness. Galvatron had killed so many. There was _no reason_ to have slaughtered the younglings or elders, but Galvatron had, right along with every last warrior, and then he'd left them there to smolder and rust. The only thing keeping Ratchet on his feet was the thought that he couldn't let his mate's last act of defiance mean nothing. Wheeljack had wanted Ratchet to survive, and so Ratchet would, and since the dead had all been left there, mangled though so many were, Ratchet had been able to see that Wheeljack had not been among those corpses.

Impatience stirred in Ratchet's spark with anger again. Of all the strategic times of the year for Galvatron to have run such a cruel raid, now was perfect- the fragger. The storms lined up to melt Ratchet and Jazz, and they would wash away the trail back to the Unicronian camp. Following, especially injured, hungry, and tired, was doomed to failure, and Ratchet knew it despite hating it. He should be grateful their injuries were relatively minor, grateful that Jazz had run to protect them when the attack began, but gratitude was hard to find in his aching spark.

Ratchet braced himself on an outcropping and used it to lever himself up the last bit to the top of the plateau, his thoughts and emotions still chasing themselves around in circles. Anger grew hotter, and he grasped after it for the strength it lent. Had Shadelock not forced out Ratchet’s own _family_ they would have had five incredibly powerful warriors to help defend the clan. Ratchet had been angry and hurting for months now over that- never mind the _guilt_.

A low growl was bitten back as Ratchet looked up and spotted a large silver frame across the plateau. //Jazz,// Ratchet hissed. Megatron stood, weight on one leg and arms loose at his sides. Ratchet didn’t seen anyone else, but they had to be out there somewhere close. There weren’t many places to hide up here.

Jazz wobbled to a halt beside Ratchet, panting, his field flaring with pain and exhaustion. //Suddenly feels like a worse idea,// he whispered.

Ratchet considered the tools he'd had on him and those he was able to scavenge before they'd departed, but none would be effective weapons. Jazz's spear was strapped to his back, but it was cracked and likely couldn't take a single strike without snapping. //Well?//

//We mean no harm,// Jazz rasped, and Ratchet let his head bow forward with Jazz's as they ducked their gaze in submission. //We seek only shelter from the storm. We're all that's left of our clan...//

Ratchet peeked up and tensed as Megatron stepped forward. //I doubt you could do harm right now,// he replied once he was closer- too close for Ratchet's comfort. //I recognize the two of you. Our clans haven’t been allies since I claimed this territory, so I am rather suspicious as to why you would come here.//

//No, you aren’t,// Ratchet said as he reached to help Jazz steady himself. //Where else could we go? Galvatron annihilated our clan. He killed the warriors strong enough to put up a real fight, then made off with the small and young.// He growled and pulled Jazz forward a few more steps, determined not to show his fear. //Those of them he didn’t kill anyway.//

Jazz reached up and touched Ratchet's arm before he stepped forward and gave a faltering bow. //Shadelock always was suspicious of other clans, ta a fault. I'm... I _was_ his Third, and no matter how many times I pleaded for him ta foster relations with other clans, he wouldn't. And now, we have no allies. We have nowhere else we can go and no one else we can ask for help.// 

Jazz bowed his head again. //My name is Jazz – this is Ratchet. His mate was one of those taken by Galvatron.//

Ratchet watched Megatron's face, how he sneered at both Shadelock and Galvatron's names, and wanted to pull Jazz back close. Thunder rumbled, the storm not far off now, and Ratchet's spark felt tight from the fear. If they were turned away now, they were dead.

Megatron remained silent a moment longer, really looking at Ratchet and Jazz. Judging. //Swear you won’t harm any of my people, and I will accept you both into my own household until you’ve proven yourselves.//

//At what price?// Ratchet asked, weary and off-balance. The offer seemed too easy, and Jazz's field rippled in surprise as well.

//I swear it,// Jazz said after a moment. //But we'll defend ourselves if necessary.//

Megatron flicked his hand out in a dismissive gesture. //Self-defense is entirely different. Defend yourselves, then tell me who dared attack one under my protection.// He gestured again and a pair of warriors appeared over a ridge Ratchet hadn't known was capable of hiding mechs. Megatron held out a hand. //Will you accept assistance to the camp? We are down several tiers, and you both, frankly, do not look capable of making it alone.//

Ratchet bit his lip and looked at Jazz. They needed help, but he hated that they would be indebted more than they already were. Of course, before he could go hunt down his mate, he needed to recover. //Help would be appreciated. I’m a healer, so once rested I would lend aid in that capacity to help earn my keep.//

Jazz nodded too, but there was no hiding the exhaustion and pain that bled from his field. Ratchet worried even more when a shiver became strong enough to begin rattling Jazz's plating. //I'm a good hunter and scout,// he offered though. //I would be glad to offer my skills once I'm rested.// 

Megatron frowned and waved the warriors closer before he held out a hand to Jazz himself. //You are both ready to drop. Let us help you. I’m not in the habit of turning away mechs in need. Nor of harming them.//

Ratchet eyed the silent hunters as they stepped up to him, hand still tight on Jazz's arm. They looked as distrustful of him as he felt, but what choice was there? He couldn’t carry Jazz, and he was drooping himself. Thunder rumbled closer. He gave Megatron a last, wary look, then gently let go of Jazz so the red and yellow mechs could hook Ratchet’s arms over their shoulders and help brace him. Their fields were held tight, but the one flickered surprise when Ratchet resisted the forward tug, his optics on Jazz. //We don’t want to be separated,// Ratchet said, spark pounding at the very thought. Jazz was all he had left, and some of the leashed desolation must have leaked into his field as the red hunter tightened his hold and gave a soft start to a purr.

Jazz accepted Megatron's hand with a crooked, humorless grin. //We've... had a rough day.//

Megatron nodded and slipped his free arm around Jazz’s back. //I can’t even imagine,// he said softly, helping Jazz along. //I could carry you,// he offered softly. //It’s a fair walk down to our encampment.//

Jazz hesitated, and Ratchet almost intervened, but after a moment, Jazz nodded. //That... probably wouldn't be a bad idea,// he said, tone conveying how it stung his pride.

Megatron crouched and held his arms out. Rather than pull the mech in and lift him, Megatron left the choice to Jazz to step in close. //You said Third?// he asked as he balanced and waited for Jazz to step in. //And you managed to save a clan's most valuable mech next to their leader. You did well.//

Jazz stepped in and rested one hand on Megatron's shoulder so he could take his spear from his back and huffed a weak, humorless laugh. //I can't claim that credit – his mate made a diversion for us. Wheeljack's a pyrotech,// he said as Megatron lifted him. //Made some energon crystals explode near us. Didn't do too much damage, but it buried us in enough rubble that Galvatron was gone by the time we got free.// Jazz's expression turned grim. //I hope he stays strong.//

Ratchet’s optics stayed on Jazz and Megatron even as the mechs holding him up finally tugged him into motion. 

//A mech who can set off an explosion in his own mate’s direction to protect him is a mech strong enough, and clearly smart enough, to survive,// Megatron said, optics meeting Ratchet's.

Once Jazz was off his feet, the exhaustion overcame him, and he sagged in Megatron's arms, spear dangling in his grasp. //Hope so,// he murmured, but Ratchet still heard him. //The others they took... some ain't as strong.//

Ratchet looked back at Jazz every few steps, and Megatron shook his helm and picked up his pace until he was even with Ratchet and the two helping him. He looked to Ratchet as though he was genuinely trying not to jostle Jazz too much, but the wind was picking up and they really did need to get off the plateau.

//Rest,// Megatron said when Jazz squirmed. //We’re going down and to the east. My hut is on the south side of the encampment- much to the annoyance of those who believe their chieftain should have the prized place near the cavern entrance. The door faces southeast toward the general direction of greatest threat. That’s where we are all going. You and Ratchet will not be separated.//

Ratchet grumbled to himself and limped along a bit faster while Jazz made a soft, muzzy noise of acknowledgment then went quiet.

The rest of the trip down was excruciating, and Ratchet kept his head down other than to check on Jazz until they reached the cluster of rather impressive huts. He caught sight of a new mech, tall and dark blue, watching as they approached from beside the door of one domed hut.

Megatron nodded toward the mech, then stopped while the red warrior left Ratchet and opened the door.

//Come.// Megatron ducked through first and aimed for the sleeping mats where he laid Jazz. Ratchet was helped in by the yellow hunter, who sat him on the mats then hurried out. 

//I will send my healer to help you both,// Megatron continued and gestured to the blue mech. //This is Soundwave. I need to check on progress and help. Once Axon is here, he’ll stay with you until my return.//

//We’re grateful,// he said to Megatron, then scooted closer to Jazz to check him over.

~ | ~

The storm raged outside and Megatron listened to the crash of thunder and pounding rain. He was city-born, so he had brought ideas with him. His hut- his clan’s huts were strong, well-built, and would weather this storm as they had the others. Usually, Megatron used the storm days to enjoy a little peace and quiet. He would write- his poems, his history, his clan’s history. He would update the records during storm season as well. Who mated, who sparked a new life, who -Primus forbid- had died. The past two days, he had also watched the two new mechs struggle with their recoveries.

Ratchet was a talented healer. Axon had been impressed, and there had been no clash of egos. Jazz healed well -physically- but they both mourned. Jazz was quiet. Ratchet was temperamental and paced while cursing about the storm. Then at night, he would whimper and keen in his recharge.

Right now, all but the storm was quiet, and the dim, diffuse light of the rough-cut glow stone was only bright enough to keep the two new residents from harming themselves if they woke during the night. Megatron rolled over and flinched before he could stop the reaction. //Jazz?// he asked, keeping his voice to a whisper.

Jazz held up his hands. //Sorry. Didn't mean ta startle ya,// he said and lowered his hands slowly, still careful of his movements as if expecting Megatron to take them as a threat if he moved too fast.

Megatron sat up, though he kept the blankets over his lap to ward off the chill. //Do you wish to talk?// He flicked back a corner of the blanket in offering and glanced at the healer. Ratchet was a shadowy lump, and seemed to be sleeping deeply for the moment. This would be a good opportunity for a discussion he and Jazz had not attempted yet.

Jazz hesitated only a moment before he climbed onto the bedding. //I haven't really gotten a chance ta properly thank ya for takin' us in like this.// He frowned and looked up to the ceiling at a particularly loud clash of thunder. //Don't think we woulda made it on our own.//

Megatron reached out and tugged the blankets higher for Jazz, careful not to touch the mech or crowd him. //You are welcome. I’ve made a habit of bringing in loners and refugees. Such mechs were the core of this clan when I formed it, though I will admit to being unashamedly willing to destroy one that betrays us. Leave if you like any time you like, but I do not allow my people to be stolen from or harmed.//

Jazz looked back to Megatron and tilted his head. //Shadelock said otherwise. He made us all afraid of 'ya. Said your clan was completely made up of mechs ya captured from others or from the cities. But I'll be the first to admit Shadelock was more distrustful than most,// Jazz continued. //He meant well, but...//

//Shadelock is partly correct,// Megatron said and watched for a negative reaction as he tried to get a decent read from the mech. //I've allowed raiding for supplies and mates without discriminating between city or clan. Supplies from the city convoys and mates from other clans follow the law of the wastes, however. Violation is not allowed, though seduction and proof for courting is. There are city mechs here who were captured and claimed. One even left, then came back. There are even more mechs from other clans, and all have chosen to stay- those who were claimed as mates as well as those invited for their skills. There are wanderers, and there are mechs who escaped Galvatron or the unjust laws of the cities, as well as those who were unhappy in their other clans.//

After allowing that to sink in, Megatron added, //Shadelock was as good a leader as he could be, but he was insular and fearful. I learned very quickly that while he would never be an ally, at least he was no threat, so I left him and your clan alone. Standing orders were that we did not raid that border.// It was cold and Megatron saw no reason to try to tough it out. He laid down, propped up on his elbow, and pulled the blanket up over his shoulder. //Now that border is exposed, and I can’t help but feel that might have been part of Galvatron’s plan.// Though hopefully having all those new mechs would keep him too busy to do anything during the storms- wrong as that thought was.

Jazz seemed to consider and absorb it all, then nodded. //Shadelock avoided city mechs as much as possible. Felt they were beneath us because they couldn't live off the wilds. Don't think he ever woulda sanctioned a raid on 'em, for mates or supplies.// Jazz looked over to Megatron again. //'Insular' is a good word for him. I followed an' respected him, but...// He sighed and laid down too. //I knew isolating us from other clans would come back ta bite us one day.//

Megatron watched as Jazz hesitated an instant before he shifted to face Megatron more fully. One hand came to rest on the blanket covering Megatron's leg, and Megatron's optics brightened at the touch and tone. //Can't help but notice a lot of yer mechs have mates, but you don't seem to.//

Megatron carefully slid his leg out from under Jazz’s hand. //I encourage bonding for love.// He thought maybe he should have expected this. It wouldn’t be Ratchet- he keened in the night for his missing mate, but Megatron hadn’t caught any of the usual _looks_ from Jazz. No, that wasn’t true, he hadn’t been looking, more worried about Galvatron and what such a bold and violent course of action could mean for Megatron’s people. //I intend to give any mate of my own the same courtesy. And while I’m aware it’s uncommon given tradition, any creation of mine might _not_ be the best choice for the next leader of this clan. Any mate I take will need to accept that fact first.//

Jazz blinked when Megatron pulled away, but he didn't make a second attempt. //And why would that be?//

Megatron’s lips quirked into a grin. Yes, he was odd, encouraging love when choosing a practical mate and learning to love them was the usual order of things. //Why would I want to be loved? Why would I want my mate to love me?// He half-sat. //Or do you mean why do I think my own offspring shouldn’t succeed me as leader?// That _was_ off of all tradition Megatron had learned, but he had seen the way power corrupted those who expected to be given it.

//All of the above? Though mostly the last.// Jazz's visor glinted as he watched Megatron. //You're not originally from this part of the wastes, are you?//

“I’m not from the wastes at all,” Megatron said in Tarnian accented NeoCybex and watched as Jazz's visor brightened. //I left the cities because I realized I could never make a life for myself there. I would always be a slave to the power held out of the reach of the masses.// One hand waved back over his shoulder in the direction of the encampment. //Everyone here contributes what they are able. No one starves, no one is left to suffer injury that can be treated. In the early days, it was me and a few other refugees from the cities I knew. I lead because I am capable and they want me to. I continue to lead because they continue to follow.//

//That explains a lot about your clan... and why Shadelock was so afraid of you, if he knew or had suspicion.// Jazz frowned slightly, confusion in the expression. //I know citymechs sometimes end up in the wastes or are stolen for mates, but I've never met one who commanded his own clan.//

//I don’t know of any others myself,// Megatron replied with a one-shouldered shrug. //And I’m not sure who outside my clan knows. I haven’t ever made a secret of it, but there really might be some of my own people who don’t know.// He tipped his helm a bit at Jazz. //So were you coming on to me out of interest I somehow missed, or misplaced gratitude?//

Jazz blinked again then quirked a small, half-grin at the other mech. //A little of both. Gotta admit, I'm intrigued.// His grin grew more genuine. //I would say yer not like any clansmech I've ever known, but that's the point, ain't it?// He rolled one shoulder in a half-shrug. //I didn't have a mate– kinda glad for that, now. No one ta get snatched away or killed.//

Megatron smirked back and rolled to his back to tuck his hands behind his head. //Partial interest. Hm.// He chuckled a bit and shook his head. //Let me know when it’s all interest and zero gratitude.// Red optics flickered over what he could see of the black and white frame. //I don’t require being thanked in such a way, but interest is rather nice.//

Jazz shifted his position to angle himself where Megatron could get a better look at his lithe frame, grinning as his own gaze roamed. Megatron found himself enjoying the view and returned the smile as he rolled back to his side.

//That might not take too long,// Jazz said as his grin softened to a small smile. //Gratitude probably won't go away entirely. We owe ya our lives. But we can help out round the clan ta thank ya instead.// He sobered further. //We don't really have anywhere else ta go, though I know Ratchet won't be okay again 'til he gets Wheeljack back.//

//There is room here, and I’m sure the both of you will slot in well given time. We’re not fearful of new-comers. As for your healer’s mate, I don’t know what we can do about that.// Megatron watched Jazz’s face closely. //I would dearly love to end the threat of Galvatron, but until now things have been quiet enough not to push. He wasn’t worth the risk of my own people, and with the storms-// He gestured up, the thunder obliging him with a hard rumble as if on cue.

Jazz nodded. //I was Third. I understand how careful ya have ta be with other clans, 'specially one like Galvatron's with all those warriors. Can't afford ta start a clan war yer not sure ya can win.// Jazz sighed and looked toward where Ratchet was recharging- fitfully now. //Just hope Ratch understands that an' Jack stays strong.//

//My people have been told, and are on alert for a possible attack,// Megatron said. //It’s the middle of the season, and you know this area as well as I do. The storms are going to come hard and fast until the last weeks of the season. It’s different to the south, so he _might_ try to come at us before the end of the storms, but we're all hoping he won't.// He paused and watched Jazz for a moment. //We go to the Silver Waters after the storms to fish. The storms stir them all up and drive them away. They come back after the end. Now,// he added and shifted up onto his elbow more. //I doubt Galvatron knows where exactly we are this moment, or that we will be going there unless his spies are far more subtle than my own. If we can avoid an attack until the worst of the storms end, I would take the clan to the shore early. Once the weakest among us are safe, the scouts can scout, and we can plan a raid to free any people who have survived. They just have to survive until then.//

Jazz nodded. //I appreciate that, an' I understand the need for the delay. It means a lot that ya'd even be willin' ta help our clanmates, even if we have ta wait. Wheeljack can support the others who were taken. As long as Galvatron's madness doesn't completely spill over, I'm sure he'll survive.// He flashed a grin. //The Silver Waters, huh? Been a _long_ time since I last saw the shore.//

//Swim any?// Megatron asked with a smile.

//If I have, it was so long ago I can't remember,// Jazz replied with a shake of his head.

//Right after the storms the water is chilly in this particular inlet,// Megatron said. //It’s not even a bay, just a curve in the land, shallow water a good way out. Sharkticons swarm beyond the drop-off until the fish leave for cooler waters again, but it's generally safe enough. The inlet waters warm a few months later, though my clan rarely goes there after the fishing season. Trips down to play and hunt are occasionally made though. I've recently granted that land to another clan. Small, but strong if I’m any judge. They know we'll be coming and that they're expected to share the space.//

Megatron cycled his vents and laid back down, arm curled up under his helm. //There would be a good place to leave our more gentle mechs if a raid can be run, and I’m not doing it solely for your mechs. If Galvatron’s only taken the non-warriors, then you must know what he’s taken them for. He’s a threat to my people now as well and needs stopped before he does this again.//

//Sounds like a plan. Can't say I'd mourn the Predacon reject if it comes ta killin' him so everyone's safe again.// Jazz frowned softly as he settled down too, visor on Megatron's face. //We were attacked by a small but strong raidin' party. I don't know how low his numbers really are. Think there's any chance he'll follow the law of the wastes?//

//I don't know that Galvatron has ever followed any laws but his own,// Megatron replied, voice carefully quiet so Ratchet would not hear if he woke. //I know he tried to attack others and failed just before the first storm. If he's this desperate, we would be foolish to assume he would be patient enough to seduce instead of violate.//

Jazz nodded quietly, his expression grim. //Yeah. That's what I feared ya say.// He glanced back in Ratchet's direction again briefly before looking back at Megatron. //Well, if there's anythin' ya need us ta do, let us know. Ratch is the best healer I've ever known, an' I can do just about anythin' else. Now that we're in better shape, we wanna pull our weight, an' Ratch could probably use the distraction.//

//Storm season is usually a time for leisure,// Megatron said. //The caverns have naturally warmed oil pools, and I know a number of mechs are weathering this storm there now. We’ve laid in enough energon during the other seasons to ration our way through the storms without fear of hunger.// He shifted to get comfortable and tugged the blanket up over his shoulder again. //Sunstreaker is our resident rabbit wingnut. He has a couple dozen of them right now safe in the caverns, and the clan contributes to their feeding and care in return for their eggs. Be mindful of Thumper. He’s smart and escapes regularly, and is also Sunstreaker’s favorite. You’ll know him by the bent and droopy audial.// He waved a hand and got back on track. //Crafting of blankets, repairs of baskets and supplies, attempting to spark. We’re a wealthy and healthy clan, capable of such leisure during the storms, and that allows us a chance at trade as well. I’ve encouraged many to learn to speak NeoCybex for that reason, and most are capable enough at it when they need to be.//

One side of Jazz's visor brightened. //Ya actually trade with the wall crawlers?// He winced as soon as the words left his vocalizer, and Megatron had to bite back a laugh that surely would have woken Ratchet. //Sorry.//

//Wall crawlers have some advantages,// Megatron said with a grin and gestured toward the domed hut around them. //Their technology designed this, though we’ve modified them to be larger and stand up to the rage of the storms. Those we trade with seem to like our simplest crafts and rabbit eggs best. Blankets,// he tugged at the corner of the hook-worked fine threaded polyethylene blanket. //They have metal mesh, but these are softer and warmer, and it’s nothing to take what they see as waste and render it for our use.//

Shoulders relaxed a bit and Jazz gave Megatron a wry grin. //Never thought of it that way. Though I never really thought 'bout tryin'. Shadelock woulda flipped out had anyone even suggested it.//

Megatron nodded, beginning to feel genuinely sleepy. It was the storm. After so many vorns of seasons his body had become used to storms meaning extra recharge. //They city dwellers we trade with leave their walls and meet us in something of a market in the fields. It’s a spot far enough from the walls that an attack would be seen coming, and close enough that they could flee back if threatened. Tensions are low, however. Those who trade know us, and we know them. There are always new faces, of course, but it’s a good place to meet others. There are two other tribes from the northwest that come too. Are you familiar with Alexgrease’s clan? They would have bordered yours. The other is from farther off.//

Jazz nodded again. //I know of 'em. Not well, but we've crossed paths before. We had an agreement over the turbohawk nests at the border to lessen competition.// He looked back to Megatron and gave him a small smile as he moved to stand. //But I've kept ya up long enough. We can talk more in the mornin'.//

Megatron gave a soft hum of agreement. //Rest well. Once the storm ends, I’ll show you both to the pools. It’s difficult to remain tense there, and it would do both of you good to get to know the others.// He would also need to send messages to the other two allied clans. They rarely worried over Galvatron themselves since he didn’t go that far north, but with the death of one whole clan, they were now at risk. He would also need to ask Drift and his mate to put off their sparking attempts if they didn’t succeed before the end of the storm and hadn’t already chosen to wait themselves. Both were capable warriors, and would be needed.

//I'll look forward ta that,// Jazz said gave Megatron a slight wave as he made his way back over to his bedding. //Ya rest well too.//

~ | ~

Cyclonus shouted instructions for the dismantling of the predacon’s shell while he oversaw the stripping and cleaning of the four equus his hunting party had taken down. Galvatron had taken the strongest north to raid against Shadelock’s clan, leaving Cyclonus to guard and manage their territory while he was away. The predacon had likely been drawn in by the scent of the dead equus, and that fight had cost them a handful of -thankfully- minor wounds. Cyclonus thanked the stars that, while not the strongest hunters, those with him were obedient and determined to keep their hard-earned kills. Equus were _good_ , and a rare treat this far south.

Galvatron would be pleased with the hunt when he returned, so long as the chieftain himself had managed some success. Cyclonus knew they were too low on numbers to survive without more mechs willing to carry, but he didn’t agree with the mass claiming. Not that he’d dare say such a thing to anyone, but the small did not survive well here. Too many died by their own choice or abuse or in trying to flee and return to their former clans, incapable of adjusting and miserable with the harsh life in Unicron’s Spires.

A daring pre-storm raid might gain them a few mechs, Cyclonus knew, and they would be trapped here during the floods, but that didn’t stop the high death rate. There were others who did not agree as well, but none would speak up for fear that no one else would dare back them up. Every dry season, once the floods retreated, a mech or two would slip away. If the loss was noticed quickly enough, the mech would be captured and brought back, but Galvatron’s way of handling desertion had the same effect. A dead mech still could not hunt or breed for the clan.

//Galvatron!// one of the look-outs cried, and Cyclonus flew up to the top of a spire to see for himself.

A wagon, pulled along by four of the clan’s hunters and led by Galvatron himself, rattled and bounced toward the Spires. Cyclonus’ optics when wide in shock as he saw the number of bound mechs on the wagon. There had to be over two dozen. //Finish the work!// he called back to the others, then launched again, flying toward his leader with his spark pounding. _How_ had he taken so many?

//Cyclonus!// Galvatron called and gestured back to the wagon. //Shadelock is no more and we’ve taken all his breeders!//

Cyclonus landed and bowed to cover his shock. //Welcome back, my leader. We were fortuitous as well. Four equus and a predacon.// True, the predacon was unfit to eat, but its body could still be used for many different items.

//Good. Get everyone down here,// Galvatron ordered. //I intend to keep the proven breeders, but the others can be divided between the rest of you. There should be enough,// he added with a glance back, //for everyone to have at least one.// Cyclonus was given a grin. //Two for you I think. It’s about time you produced new warriors for my clan.//

//Of course,// Cyclonus said, spark still pounding as he looked over the battered, mourning, frightened mechs.

//I will call the others down in waves while you take your new mates home, if you approve?// Cyclonus said, then gestured up to the look-out when Galvatron nodded and turned away.

//Oversee the distribution,// Galvatron said as he reached into the wagon and dragged apart a mech and his mostly grown youngling. //These brave warriors choose after you, Cyclonus, then the others. They also get a second first if there are enough.//

//Yes, my leader,// Cyclonus said, and gestured the others back from the wagon and carefully masked a wince as the youngling was struck. He was breedable, but not yet old enough to be claimed- were Galvatron one to honor such a distinction. Cyclonus would try to get the youngling chosen by one who would not be too cruel with him. He watched Galvatron drag four mechs from the wagon, linking their chains so he could fly them up all at once.

Cyclonus looked over the remaining mechs. He didn’t care at all to have a mate or offspring, and so eyed them to see who would best be served by his protection. The little white and blue one was cute and looked young, but mature. //Come,// Cyclonus said and lifted the small mech from the wagon, doing his best to ignore the jeering behind him from the others.

//Wheeljack..!// the little mech keened and squirmed, his visor blazing in panic, and another -presumably Wheeljack- tried to reach out to him but was stopped by his restraints. He leveled a glare in Galvatron's direction, then at Cyclonus, but remained silent.

One of the more distraught mechs cast his glare at Wheeljack, however, shaking, his field wild with grief and rage. //Well, aren't _you_ the lucky one,// he growled. //We've all lost _our_ families, but at least _you_ won't have to bear a new one for these beasts.// 

//Corona, stop!// another mech hissed. 

//Quiet. All of you,// Cyclonus ordered, deep voice resonate and commanding as he frowned them into silence. He eyed Wheeljack and stepped closer to him, one hand on the little white and blue mech’s shoulder. //What did he mean?// he asked quietly.

Wheeljack flinched, and he lowered his gaze in submission. His vocal indicators barely lit as he quietly answered, his field tinted with shame, //I... I can't carry. I have no forge.//

Cyclonus’ optics widened in surprise, though he resisted glancing around at the others. //Do not repeat that,// he said in a very soft voice. //No one repeat that. Come.// He stepped back, one hand wrapping around Wheeljack’s upper arm to help him out of the wagon. If that secret got out the mech would be killed as useless. //Do not argue, either of you. Come.// He let his own fear flicker through his field for only an instant while hoping the little one and Wheeljack were paying attention.

Wheeljack yipped slightly and stumbled after Cyclonus while the little one whimpered fearfully. Thankfully, both remained obediently silent, standing close and clutching at each other.

With Cyclonus' two choices clearly made, the other warriors began to choose as well, some less enthusiastically than others. Onslaught seemed resigned to the whole spectacle as he tugged a trembling white and red mech with healer apprentice markings out of the wagon.

Cyclonus moved his new ‘mates’ back from the wagon and quietly ordered them to sit while he oversaw the choosing as commanded. He caught Crosswind’s optic when the mech flew down and landed, then tipped his helm ever so slightly toward the youngling. Crosswind lifted the weeping youngster from the wagon and flew off with him without a word, and Cyclonus only just kept himself from nodding in approval. His own cavern shared a wall with Crosswind so they could talk later, and he was the best mech to take on an immature ‘mate’ other than Cyclonus, who did not have the benefit of lack of attention from Galvatron the youngling would need.

Once all the mechs were claimed, Cyclonus ordered the wagon taken in so it could be raised up above the expected flood levels and stored. Dark clouds filled the northern horizon, and even before the rains reached the Spires, the lowlands would turn into a mire, then a rough river flood.

//I want the two of you to stay close to me and remain silent,// Cyclonus warned as he led the two mechs toward the nearest Spire. He crouched a little to lift the minibot, then wrapped his other arm around Wheeljack, hefting the mech to test his weight. He would be able to carry them together, so eased them both back to the ground so he could get a better grip. He looked to Wheeljack first. //Loop your arms around my shoulders. I will fly us all up, but I need you both to remain still until after I’ve landed.//

Both mechs clung to Cyclonus as their feet left the ground, the smaller's visor blazing white, bright enough to make Cyclonus' optics ache in sympathy, and though he whimpered every now and then in fear, both he and Wheeljack stayed still as Cyclonus flew them up.

Cyclonus landed just a little harder than he meant to, but it was his knees that took the impact, not the two mechs he carried. He set them both down carefully on the rough terrace outside his home, able to hear the random cry of pain- emotional and physical. His tank churned, and he nudged the two mechs toward the flap of his own cavern, then secured it once they were inside. He would have his portion of the hunt delivered at some point in the night, but the only mech who would dare push through the flap without announcing himself was Galvatron, who was likely too busy tonight to do so.

//Sit. We must speak,// Cyclonus said in a hushed voice as he gestured toward the mats at the back of the cavern. He gave the glow stone in the wall niche a light shake to brighten it, then sat.

//Speak about what?// Wheeljack snapped, though he kept his voice low. He put himself between Cyclonus and the shaking minibot, shoulders squared and plating clamped tight to appear tougher than his small size suggested he was. //About how that monster you call a chieftain _slaughtered_ our entire clan? About how we're now nothing more than petrorabbits expected to produce eggs for his amusement?//

//About your survival here and my ability to protect you,//Cyclonus said and gestured to the mats again. //Sit. Right now everyone is too busy to come here, so we have time to speak.// He met the pale blue optics and repeated, //Sit. Both of you.//

//'Too busy'... that's sure a _diplomatic_ way to put it,// Wheeljack growled, but after a brief hesitation, he started over to the mats, gently tugging the small mech to sit with him. Wheeljack crooned softly and looped an arm around the other.

Cyclonus cycled his vents, trying to calm the hard pulse of his spark as he watched them. //It is diplomatically stated, but also true. I know it is likely no consolation, but I have no intention of seducing or violating either of you. However, I have been all but ordered by Galvatron to sire sparklings on the mechs he has… gifted to me.// He met Wheeljack’s optics. //What you admitted in the wagon- that can _not_ be repeated. You will be killed.// And hopefully none that knew it would betray the mech. //I am Cyclonus. I know you are called Wheeljack.// He shifted his gaze to the white and blue mech. //What shall I call you, little one?// They could start with introductions then move on.

Wheeljack tensed at the warning, but after a moment, he looked down at the small mech and gave him a gentle nudge.

The trembling minibot looked up from where he had his face hidden in Wheeljack's arm again, and he timidly answered, //T-Tailgate.// 

//He's prone to panic attacks,// Wheeljack said quietly, looking back to Cyclonus. //His sires were killed by a Predacon when he was very young. My mate and I looked after him some before his majority.//

Cyclonus dipped his chin politely. //Please understand,// he said _very_ quietly. //I do not agree with what has happened here or to your people. There are others who feel the same, however there is very little that can be done. As you personally experienced, my leader does have enough support from those at least as depraved as he is. Right now there is little that can be done to change that. Anyone who attempts to leave is hunted down and killed. Mates and offspring are used to encourage mechs to return, though our clan has been reduced to only a couple dozen hunters and warriors. None want the… weakness of staying behind and carrying. The gentle have been killed, taken their own lives, or been lost to the wastes.//

A keen escaped Tailgate's vocalizer before he forcibly muted himself, and after a moment, the little mech stammered, //Wuh- what happens now?// 

//I should blow him up,// Wheeljack growled mostly to himself. He looked to Cyclonus, the light of his optics narrowing slightly in suspicion. //...I lit one of our crystal piles to bury my mate. Our clan's Third was with him. They probably... hopefully survived. If so, they'll be looking for help and coming for us.//

Cyclonus inhaled again and let the vent out slowly. Rescue was entirely unlikely. The most powerful clan was Megatron's, and he had never chosen to strike out against them. No other would even stand a chance. //Now,// he said, choosing to address Tailgate, //you must both think of yourselves. So long as it is believed that you are submitting to me and I am attempting to spark you both, we have time before Galvatron will question why neither of you have. Do not leave this place without me as an escort. Do not share any of this information with _any_ one else. At the very least, Tailgate would be given to another, and Wheeljack and I would be executed.//

Cyclonus folded his hands in his lap. //Clearly, this cannot be allowed to continue, so I will carefully speak to those I know and trust the most. Perhaps with enough mechs we could attempt an escape, however, the floods are coming. Rations will be enforced, but there will be a few more days of hunts. Do either of you have hunting skills? Being of use and looking as though you are willing to help the clan may aid in keeping you safe.//

The two mechs exchanged a glance. //My mate is a healer,// Wheeljack said. //He taught me a few things. I'm also a pyrotech, if crystal manipulation would be of any use.// 

//I... I'm mostly a crafter,// Tailgate offered timidly. //Baskets, blankets, tarps...//

Cyclonus nodded as he considered them both. //Both would be good.// He looked to Tailgate. //I will find the supplies, and if you can make some practical, well-made items, I will be able to show you off a bit. We have no crystals here,// he said and faced Wheeljack. //However, we have no pyrotechs either. If you can get me a list of items you think would work to make an explosive for a hunt- perhaps to drive animals off or herd them? That would cement your usefulness as well.// He could barely believe he was contemplating this, let alone saying it out loud. //Such items, once proved useful in a hunt could be procured more easily for… other uses.// Such as causing a huge ‘accident’ and covering the escape of as many mechs as Cyclonus could gather.

Wheeljack's winglets lifted slightly, and Cyclonus knew he'd understood the hidden meaning. Blue optics glinted with barely concealed malice. //I can make _anything_ explode. I'll have a list by the morning.//

Tailgate gave his companion a wary side glance before looking back to Cyclonus. //He really can.//

//Good.// Cyclonus pushed himself to his feet and crossed to a storage trunk. Under a few spare blankets was a container of hoarded energon, and he pulled that out before reaching back for a few rough-beaten metal cups. //I am sure you are both hungry?// A cup was handed to each mech as Cyclonus sat back down, the energon held out in offering.

Both mechs took the offered energon with quiet thanks and wasted no time retracting their masks to drink, clearly both very hungry. 

Silence hung between them for a long few minutes as they ate until Wheeljack lifted his helm to ask, //So, you seem to have a shred of honor in you. Why are you following Galvatron?//

Cyclonus sipped at his energon and thought over how to answer. He had wrestled with that very question for countless vorns now. //It wasn’t always this way. Long ago, he was a capable leader.// He thought about it, struggling to find words for concepts he hadn’t dared think upon too much before this. Even now he felt off balance, like his gyros were spinning and the ground was shifting under his feet. What Galvatron had done this time was far beyond the crass and already dishonorable things he had done in the past. //This -what was done to your clan- is unforgivable. I believe I could make my own escape, but I cannot in good conscience leave innocent mechs here to suffer. Action must be taken. I cannot live like this anymore.//

Wheeljack nodded quietly, looking down into his cup. //I know most of the mechs who were brought here well. If there's anything we can do to help expedite getting away from here, we'll do it.//

~ | ~

Tailgate had thought they were going to have a quiet night in. That was the impression Cyclonus had given them, and he had been very relieved. Wheeljack was worried about Ratchet and still trying to protect Tailgate in case Cyclonus was lying, and Tailgate himself felt like the world was spinning too fast, slipping out from under his feet as he pinwheeled his arms and tried to keep his balance.

It didn't feel like it was working.

Then, another mech had come, scratched at the tarp hanging over Cyclonus' door, and called out that Cyclonus had to come out. And to bring his new mates with him.

//Really, Cyclonus?// Galvatron asked, his smirk amused as he stared down at Tailgate and Wheeljack.

//You told me to choose two, my leader?// Cyclonus said, voice arcing questioningly.

Galvatron snorted and shook his head. //I think you picked the ugliest ones. Why did I bother giving you first choice?//

Cyclonus blinked and looked down at them. //Wheeljack is a pyrotech, and Tailgate a craftsmech. I felt they would make practical mates.//

A heavy hand clanked down on Cyclonus' shoulder, and Galvatron laughed, hearty and loud. //Practical. My Second, you are ever-pragmatic.// He shook his head and walked off, still chuckling.

Tailgate dared glance up at Cyclonus, the tips of his two index fingers tapping together in a nervous gesture. //What now?//

//Shh,// Cyclonus hissed softly.

//Cyclonus and his hunters were successful!// Galvatron shouted, arms up, turning in the center of the large, open platform, the fire glinting off his armor. Mechs cheered. // _We_ returned victorious with new mates!// The roar was nearly deafening, and Tailgate wanted to cry. They were so happy about killing so many? They snuck in at night. It wasn't even a real battle. //I thought a celebration was in order.//

Wheeljack shifted beside Tailgate, and Cyclonus held his hand open to signal them to be still. Beneath his mask, Tailgate began to gnaw on his lip. His spark felt like it was going to explode from the fear.

Stars above them, Cybertron below... what next?

Then Tailgate wished he hadn't thought that question.

Galvatron strode to a large seat and picked up Mercury by the back of his neck, forcing the slim silver mech to stumble to his feet. //Let's break them in together.//

A cry went up from the captured mechs, though it was quickly drowned out by the bellowing cheer. Tailgate yelped and tucked himself against Wheeljack, optics wide but vision blearing as he dared stare up at Cyclonus. Cyclonus, however, didn't move.

//Don't look,// Wheeljack murmured against Tailgate's audial and pushed his face into his neck. Tailgate hid there, optics squeezed shut and was tempted to mute his audial input.

//Stay here,// Cyclonus ordered in that soft, deep voice of his.

//Where's he going?// Tailgate asked, but nothing could get him to look up, not even curiosity and fear.

Someone screamed, and raucous laughter rose.

//He's goin' ta Galvatron,// Wheeljack answered, his arms tight around Tailgate. //Galvatron's laughin' at him. Don't know why.// A pause. //Galvatron's waving him off.//

Only a moment later, Cyclonus was back. //Follow me.//

Tailgate stumbled along, refusing to look up, and let Wheeljack guide him along. The sounds of screams and laughter grew farther away, but not so far that Tailgate could pretend he didn't know exactly what was happening.

//We're back at his home,// Wheeljack whispered, and Tailgate felt Cyclonus' field as they passed him.

Only once he was sure he was inside, did Tailgate dare lift his head. Cyclonus looked as furious as his field had felt just a moment ago when he turned. //I am known to be incredibly private,// Cyclonus said. //My loyalty is not in doubt.//

Wheeljack hissed wordlessly and stomped away.

//I cannot spare them all.//

//We know,// Tailgate said because he did. He knew Wheeljack knew too. //That's why he let you leave?//

Cyclonus gave a curt nod and crossed to the berth. //Unfortunately, my plans for our sleeping arrangements have changed. I cannot risk a slow seduction.//

//What?!// Tailgate yelped, in the same moment as Wheeljack whirled around and snarled, //I _knew_ it!//

//You are mistaken,// Cyclonus said and held up a hand in a gesture for patience. //I'd intended to let the two of you sleep separate and call it a slow seduction if questioned. Now, however, I fear we must recharge together in case he chooses to look in on me. I cannot risk the two of you being taken away and given to another, nor the punishment disobeying would earn me.//

Wheeljack huffed and crossed his arms. //Fine.//

Tailgate gave Cyclonus a nod when he found those red optics staring at him. Honestly, he hadn't expected to be sleeping on a separate bed to begin with. He wasn't looking forward to trying to rest against a stranger who could decide to rape him or Wheeljack at any moment, but he hadn't expected any different. //I understand.//

Cyclonus gave them a single nod, then moved toward a chest. //Assist me, please.// Tailgate hurried over to take the extra mats and blankets. //I promise,// Cyclonus said, his voice and face severe and serious, //I shall touch you as little as possible.//

Tailgate felt his optics burn a bit and nodded. //Ok.// His voice came out weak, and the slipping world suddenly jerked free.

//Oh, Tailgate!// Wheeljack cried, and Tailgate found himself wrapped up tight in the other mech's arms.

Tailgate clung back and sobbed, not bothering with trying to talk. Wheeljack knew. Wheeljack felt the exact same.

~ | ~

Jazz hid his worry down deep as he left Ratchet and Axon alone in a warm side cavern Axon used as living quarters and treatment room. The two healers talked shop, and Ratchet had waved him off when Megatron showed up for the promised tour of the caves, but Jazz wasn't sure he wanted to leave Ratchet alone.

//He is in good hands,// Megatron said softly as he led Jazz away.

//I know. And I get why he's feelin' the way he is,// Jazz said in reply.

//Yet you feel it should be you looking after him.//

It wasn't a question, but Jazz nodded anyway. //Known Ratch all my life. By the time I was old enough ta run my first hunt, he was already finishin' his apprenticeship with his creator.// Jazz only had the most vague memories of that mech. White plating dulled by age, orange-ish red markings that life had taught him had probably once been as brilliant and glowing red as Ratchet's were now. Or should be. Ratchet was neglecting his meals.

//Tell me, Jazz,// Megatron said, his tone serious enough to draw Jazz's gaze up. //How are you to heal if you never face it yourself? Or is this reluctance I sense now, despite all your previous interest, your own fear of further loss?//

Jazz stopped and frowned up at Megatron, annoyed because that rang far too true, and Jazz was not at all used to mechs reading him that damn well. //He ain't handlin' it well. Ya've been there every night I have. Ya heard him, same as me. How am I supposed ta not fear him doin' somethin' stupid?// One hand swung out, back the way they'd come, back toward the cavern entrance. //Got another storm rollin' in, but would that stop him? Can Axon stop him?// He so desperately wanted that answer to be yes, because damnit all, he needed this break. Jazz knew he did, but frag him to the depths, he was afraid.

One big hand closed over Jazz's shoulder, and Megatron leaned in. //He can, and he's alert to any such attempts from Ratchet.// Thunder rolled somewhere distant, and Jazz wasn't sure if it was far off or if the sound was just lost because they were deep into the caves. //I refuse to lose either of you. Ratchet will be there when our walk is finished. I promise you.//

Jazz nodded and tried to shake off the weight on his spark some as they began walking again. He liked Megatron. The time they had spent talking over the last several days had been... nice. The playful, if subtle, flirting and soft regard had been a balm against the hurt which still simmered down deep. Jazz knew his method of coping -avoiding thinking or talking about the loss of his entire clan- was not healthy, but it worked for now. He would much rather chat about lighter things, flirt with the tall, silver mech who was not only much less scary than Jazz had been lead to believe, but also very attractive in frame and demeanor.

They walked a while, and Megatron - continuing his ability to read Jazz and his mood better than anyone else Jazz had ever met- kept the conversation light. Jazz visited the equus, saw Sunstreaker's petrorabbits, and was shown the winding, interconnected halls where mechs had hung tarps over the doorways to smaller, private caves they used as individual homes.

//This is amazin'. But ya knew that,// Jazz said with a grin as Megatron led the way down a path smoothed by vorns of foot traffic. They were far enough away from the main caverns for things to be quiet. Jazz thought he heard thunder and wondered if the storm had broken yet.

//That I do.// Megatron stepped to the side just outside another arched doorway and waved Jazz ahead of him. //This is my favorite of the pools. It's a bit more private, as well as being warmer than the others.//

Jazz stepped into the new room, and his visor brightened. Rough, natural glow stones cast their soft, multi-colored light down onto the still surface of the pool and his plating gave a delighted shiver just at the thought of sinking into it. //I haven't had a good oil soak in way too long. Ya have some really lucky mechs in your clan,// he added with a grin.

//We hold a rich territory,// Megatron agreed and strode toward the edge of the pool. //We fought and bled for it in the early days. This entire place,// he continued with a gesture around the cavern, //was found accidentally. We didn’t know the plains flooded that first season, and when we fled, this was the nearest known high-ground. The oils pools were a welcome surprise. We were all wounded and burned by the acid.// He stepped down into the oil, then half-turned to hold a hand out to Jazz with a smile. //This was very soothing. We were a bit hungry that season, but soaking in warm oil helped us forget that.//

//I can imagine. Our territory doesn't- didn't flood very often. We had some high ground we could go to when it did, but this is the first oil pool I've seen since we lost our territory along the northern border.// Jazz took the offered hand with a smile and stepped into the oil. It was hot enough to sting at first, but the warmth spread as he waded further into it, shifting from stinging to soothing.

//Cybertron shaped these pools, and we’ve tried to leave them as they have always been,// Megatron said as he moved to the center and knelt, letting the oil lap over the tops of his shoulders. //The largest pool has a bench we submerged into it, but this one is, at best, only worn smooth in some places by use around the edges.//

Once Jazz grew accustomed to the temperature, he crouched down until he was submerged to just under his chin. His fingers remained curled against Megatron's, and he let out a pleased purr, joints and plating relaxing. //I can definitely see why so many of your clan decided ta hole up in here durin' that last storm. I might be a bit jealous now.//

Megatron chuckled and moved both his hands to Jazz's upper arms. //We keep these caverns well-stocked in case the storms get too violent. Relax for me,// he added and pulled Jazz in closer to him. //I want to show you something we do for one another sometimes. It started as play, but we quickly discovered that being swept through the oil cleans deeply as well as feels very nice.//

//Oh?// Jazz let himself relax and hang in Megatron's hands as he was tugged through the oil. He gave delighted shiver as it flowed over and under his plating as Megatron turned, sweeping Jazz slowly around in an arc. //That _does_ feel good.//

With another soft laugh, Megatron turned again, supporting Jazz as he did. //There was a violent, though blessedly short, storm a few seasons ago here. It broke just to the north and tore across us. In a single afternoon it had nearly washed us off the plateau. The force of the wind crushed our huts. We had to flee into the caverns and wait it out.// He gave a slightly faster half-turn, forcing the oil through Jazz’s plating gaps a bit harder. //It took us the rest of the season to even find all the huts that blew away. Since then we’ve changed the depth of the central support post and strengthened the hut’s wall panels.// He reversed his turn and slowed. //We all fled to the pools and did this to help neutralize the acid and soothe the burns.//

Jazz made a pleased, sleepy noise to show he was listening even as his optics remained shut in bliss. He let his hands float along and stayed relaxed, trusting in Megatron as the big mech shifted his hold so Jazz laid on his back in the pool. //I remember that storm,// he murmured. //It sideswiped us and all but leveled our huts. Ratchet's was one of the only ones ta stay up cuz Jack reinforced it. Everyone who's hut was damaged huddled up in there ta stay outta the acid.//

Megatron hummed softly and pulled Jazz through the oil a bit faster, heat and movement melting tension Jazz hadn't even known he was carrying. //Our huts should stand up to another such storm, but since then many of the clan choose to pass the storms in the caves instead. With the mechanimals inside, it's always helpful to have those about willing to take shifts tending them.//

Jazz purred again and rolled over in the oil, hands reaching to grasp Megatron's upper arms for balance. Megatron helped him and stepped back until he leaned against the side of the pool, and Jazz slid his hands up to loop his arms loosely around Megatron's neck. //We had some critters, but we didn't have anyone skilled in taming equus. Did have a turbohound master... before.//

//Turbohounds and photovoltaic cat masters keep their beasts close,// Megatron said and slid his hands around Jazz’s back, pulling him in until they rested chest to chest. //A fair few mechs use them in hunts.//

The idle conversation made Jazz smile, and he turned his wrist to brush his fingertips over the back of Megatron's helm, smiling lazily up at him. //Sounds like ya've got everythin' figured out. Pretty good for a citymech.// He jumped as Megatron gave him a small pinch, field flicking out in reprimand. Jazz accepted the chastisement with a softer smile and reached back with his own field, letting it mesh and show his interest alongside the apology. Clearly not the thing to say to a clan leader. But how easy Megatron made it to forget he was a mech of power. //How long ya been out here?//

//Nearly forty vorns now. And I was hardly a citymech while enslaved by them,// Megatron replied while teasingly sliding his hand down Jazz's side, over his aft, and along his thigh with a smile of his own. //I left Kaon with my second, his creations, the twins- they were only younglings then. A few others.// He tipped his helm, optics on Jazz’s lips and making them tingle from that alone. //Tell me,// Megatron purred and tilted his helm to the other side as if seeking the best angle to move in from. //How interested in history are you in _this_ moment?//

//Losin' all interest, but I do have a question,// Jazz said, purring as he pulled himself up enough to brush his nose against Megatron's. //Forty vorns and no mate yet?// He shifted his legs, sliding his knees out to better straddle Megatron's lap.

Megatron smirked a little, hands moving up and down Jazz’s back. //I haven’t found the right mech. I believe I mentioned love?// He lifted his hips under Jazz, rocking him up a bit. //I suspect it’ll find me eventually, but I’m in no rush.//

//I remember. Just surprised no one's snatched ya up in all that time. Clearly, the mechs around here ain't payin' attention.// Jazz shifted his hips to nudge into Megatron's hands. //S'pose I'm in the same wagon though. Never really put much effort inta findin' or seducin' a mate.//

Megatron tugged Jazz in against him tighter. //Many look for other compatibilities, and I honestly can’t say that such a method is wrong at all. I’ve only seen one pair of mates dissolve their union out here, and that wasn’t from within my clan.// He rumbled a low purr from deep in his chest and rolled up against Jazz again, interest filling his field- interest Jazz met and matched. //I’m afraid my head was filled with poetry and romance from a terribly young age though. Sharing pleasure is one thing. Taking a mate will be something else entirely.//

Jazz moved his hands down from the back of Megatron's helm to glide his fingertips along the sides of his neck, over his shoulders, then down to his chest to trace the decorative black scrollwork. //Makes sense ta me. I've just never been interested in havin' my own bitlets, so short of havin' an occasional 'facin' partner, I haven't bothered lookin' all that hard either.//

Megatron shivered a little at the soft touch and let his own fingertips glide along Jazz’s transformation seams. //Life was too unsure before I left the city to consider sparklings, then too busy, and now…// He shrugged up one shoulder. //Interfacing, however, I’ve always enjoyed.//

//That's good ta hear,// Jazz said with a slow smile then lifted his chin to give Megatron's throat a teasing nip. //'Specially considerin' the fact that we're all alone right now. I'm warm an' feelin' good, but I'm bettin' ya could make me feel even better.//

With a low chuckle, Megatron tipped his helm to give Jazz better access to his neck. //I’m certain I could.// One hand pushed down over Jazz’s aft and between his legs from behind. //You might be one of the smallest mechs I've attempted to spike though.//

Desire shivered through Jazz, and he nudged his aft up a bit as he tilted his head to nibble at the fuel line near Megatron's throat. //Ya're one of the larger mechs I've been with, but this oil should help ease the way.// He grinned against Megatron's throat and gave it another nip. //If not, I can think of some other things we could try.//

Megatron rubbed the seam of Jazz’s panel and purred against his helm. //Very true. Now open so we can see what might be possible.//

Jazz's grin widened as Megatron dragged his finger around the seam of his panel again, but he decided teasing could wait for another time. He let his panel slide open and shivered as the hot oil flowed against his exposed valve. //Oh...// Jazz pushed his hands up against Megatron's chest plating, smoothing outward before slipping down to his abdominal plating to tease seams and make his way down toward the other mech's panel.

//How does that feel?// Megatron asked, teasing a fingertip around the edge of Jazz's valve, then repeated the touch a little more firmly on the next slow circle.

//Mmm... feels like yer worryin' a bit much about hurtin' me.// Jazz gave Megatron's throat another light nip, his field rippling in amusement and lust as he rocked his hips down against the large, black hand. //Trust me- I can take whatever ya got. Lemme feel the strength in those hands.//

//This strength could crush you,// Megatron said and tipped his helm around to nip the side of Jazz’s neck. //Besides, maybe I simply have no interest in this being over so quickly? For me.//

Megatron's finger pressed inward, and a thin whimper escaped Jazz's vocalizer as he pressed his hips down, trying to get deeper contact. He tilted his helm back to give Megatron better access to his throat and lightly scratched his fingers against Megatron's abdominal plating. //I'm tougher than I look,// Jazz whimpered, a new ache settling in. Stars above, but Megatron was large and strong enough to really give him what he wanted.

Megatron set his teeth a bit harder against Jazz’s neck, fangs dragging over the main energon lines with just enough force to scratch thin marks into them. //I’m certain you are, but I’ve no interest in testing that today.// The disappointment was barely born before it died, as Megatron hooked his free arm around Jazz's lower back to hold him closer and up a bit higher, then he added a second finger. //However, if you’re in such need already…// He thrust a little harder, pushed in deeper, and swept his fingers along the slick micromesh of Jazz's valve.

Jazz gasped sharply and rocked his hips into Megatron's hand, grasping tight to the first gaps in Megatron's armor he found, needing the anchor. //Slag,// Jazz panted. //Need ya. Please.//

//Mmm… I rather like the begging,// Megatron purred. He thrust his fingers with Jazz’s rhythm, curling them just a little so his knuckles rode over Jazz's anterior cluster with each inward plunge. //Let go,// he rumbled, lips moving against Jazz’s neck. //I have you.//

Let go. As if Jazz could hold out. // _Ah_!// Jazz's hands scrabbled for new purchase, finding broad shoulders as he thrust down on thick fingers in short, desperate rolls of his hips. //Please! Oh, slag!// Jazz cried out as the tension snapped, and his vision went white and staticky until the overload ebbed. He slumped against Megatron's chest, panting hard from the heat and lingering pleasure. It'd been a good long while since the last time he'd been with anyone, and he found himself just a little embarrassed by how quickly Megatron made him lose control. But just a little. He was too blissed out to care all that much.

A pleased purr rolled over Jazz's audial, and a heavy weight pushed along his thigh. //Beautiful,// Megatron said, and a shiver rippled over his plating. //If I hurt you at all, say so. I don’t want your pain.//

Jazz moaned softly as Megatron reached between them and guided his spike to Jazz's valve. He rubbed the tip along Jazz's array then nudged in. Jazz tilted his head up to nuzzle Megatron's throat and grinned against the soft metal before he gave it a playful nip. //What if I _like_ it ta hurt. Just a little?// He moaned again as Megatron pushed deeper.

//Like it to hurt?// Megatron asked, then half-stood to turn, letting Jazz’s weight help him deeper. Jazz found his aft on the edge of the pool, legs spread wide around Megatron's hips. //Or,// Megatron purred against an audial horn, //what you think you deserve?// There was a shock that ran through Jazz that was only partly from the bite to his audial and thrust of a spike large enough to fill his valve to capacity. Ancestors save Jazz from the too-perceptive mech. Stars... //I don't think we should play that kind of game our first time together.// Megatron rocked back and pushed in again, slowly and until the tip of his spike nudged against the apex of Jazz’s valve.

Jazz gasped sharply, arched up into the thrust. He hooked his legs around Megatron's waist and let out a soft, shuddering moan as he was filled to the very edge between pleasure and discomfort. But there was no real pain there. It felt _glorious_ , and he squirmed slightly and gave a nudge of one foot at Megatron's aft to encourage him to move as he panted in response, //S'long as that means... this ain't gonna be the only time. Oh, slag... There again.//

Megatron chuckled, the sound rumbling over Jazz’s audial. //I see no reason not to repeat this.// He rolled his hips in slow, smooth, _long_ thrusts. //Yet,// he teased.

Jazz's head rolled back as he moaned and shivered. //C'mon then! I can take it,// he whimpered, feeling as if he was about to melt each time he was filled. He let go of Megatron's shoulder with one hand so he could reach down between them to rub the sensor-laden spot between his valve and spike housing.

Megatron clicked in playful disapproval and captured Jazz’s hand. //None of that. And as far as taking it…// He looked down between them and ground in as deeply as he could, hips swiveling to rub the tip of his spike against the top of Jazz’s valve before lifting his gaze to smirk at Jazz. //You can take most of it.// Megatron grasped both of Jazz’s hands in his own and pushed him to his back, his hands press to the floor of the cavern above his head. He braced himself up on an elbow and laced his fingers through Jazz’s though he didn’t apply all that much force. //Chase it, pretty one. Maybe I can go a little harder after another overload from you.//

Jazz cried out as Megatron rocked back and thrust in again, and the complaint he thought to voice died in his vocalizer when Megatron ground deep. Visor flaring white, overload crashing over Jazz again. It shuddered through him and left him panting and trembling on the edge of the oil pool.

//More?// Megatron asked, his forehelm resting against Jazz's and a teasing lilt to his voice. He gave a grinding twist of his hips, and Jazz saw stars for a moment. //Or have I exhausted you already?//

//Not even close. Give it ta me.//

Megatron laughed, pleasure and joy in his field. //If you’re sure.// He rocked his hips back, then thrust in, able to move even more smoothly as Jazz’s valve relaxed from his last overload.

The pace Megatron set was more driving, just a little faster, and it left Jazz's head rolling back on another gasp. He moaned and shivered each time Megatron's spike knocked against the apex of his valve where the sensors were beginning to grow sore in just the right way. //Oh slag yes... More! Like that.//

Megatron pushed himself up, one hand sliding down Jazz’s arm, then his side in a firm caress until he could grasp Jazz's hip. He held tighter, his other hand wrapping around Jazz’s thigh to lift it and gave a low growl of pleasure. //You feel divine,// he purred and shifted his thumb inward to rub over Jazz’s anterior cluster.

Jazz whimpered and tried to nudge his hips up more into Megatron's touch as each thrust scraped the plating of his back against the ground, creating friction which set all his sensors alight. //Oh slag,// he panted. //Oh slag, that feels so good! Harder! Please!//

With a hungry growl, Megatron complied, plunging in faster, harder. //Like this?// He pulled Jazz into each thrust, a low, building moan rolling free.

// _Yes_!// Jazz cried out and arched under Megatron, reaching up to clutch and cling to Megatron's forearms with all his strength, and to have an anchor as he was rocked with each thrust. Charge raked across his circuits and tension coiled low in his belly as he tried to fight the inevitable for just a _little_ longer.

A shiver tracked down Megatron’s spinal struts and he drove in just a little harder- still too cautious for Jazz's liking, but perfect nonetheless. //Jazz,// he growled in warning, and that desperate note proved to be Jazz's breaking point.

//Megatron!// Jazz arched again with an echoing shout as the tension snapped and he shook with his third, powerful overload.

Megatron growled and pushed deep, and Jazz whimpered as he felt the hot gush of transfluid soak his valve.

//Slag me...// Jazz panted and lazily dragged his optics open to grin up at Megatron. //That, my mech, was _amazin'_.// 

//From this side as well.// Megatron groaned as he eased back, moving slowly and carefully as he retreated from Jazz’s valve. Jazz snickered as the big mech flopped to his back, legs still in the oil, next to him. //How do you feel?//

//Sore in all the right ways.// Jazz gave a slow stretch to resettle the plating of his back but didn't bother to close his legs or his panel, letting the movement of air tease the oversensitive rim of his valve. He turned his head to grin at Megatron. //You?//

Megatron chuckled softly. //I’m quite well.// He sighed and his plating went loose. Oil puddled under them, but it was still warm and not at all uncomfortable in Jazz's opinion. Megatron wore a grin and swung one foot in the pool, stirring the hot oil with light splashes. //Are you going to be able to walk? I don’t want either of the healers flogging me,// he said, turning to look at Jazz.

//Yeah, no problem.// Jazz grinned again, pleasurable echoes still bouncing around his circuits. //I'll be sore for a while, but that's the best part. It'll hold me over 'til round two.// He rolled to his side and purred. //Maybe we can spice things up a bit next time.//

//Spice things up?// Megatron asked with a laugh. //I suppose that depends on what you want.// He rolled to his side as well and propped his head up in his hand, the other reaching out to tease over Jazz’s chest plating. //I don’t bare my spark, and I don’t enjoy my valve taken while on my knees, but otherwise I can’t think of anything I’d say no to. Other than damaging you enough to need a healer, of course.//

//I don't see either of those becomin' a problem,// Jazz said and arched into the gentle touch. //Storm season still has a while left ta go, so we've got time ta play an' experiment.//

//What do you like? What don’t you?// Megatron asked, finger tracing along armor seams.

//I'm easy. Ain't much that'll turn me off. But I especially like bein' held down, tied up, a li'l bit of pain- nothin' that wouldn't heal on its own, of course.// Jazz let his panel close and reached out to drag his fingertip over Megatron's chest design again. //Though this is certainly nice too.//

//Lying in a puddle of oil on the hard ground?// Megatron asked with a teasing smile, his hand still roaming over Jazz's side and hip, touch light but comforting. //I suppose I could be a little rougher with you next time. I would expect you to say if something hurts in a damaging way though. I take no pleasure in hurting others.// He poked a finger into Jazz’s side to tickle at the more sensitive substructure. //Besides, Ratchet knows where I sleep.//

Jazz laughed softly and scooted closer. //Ratch worries too much. I'll trust ya ta stop when I say so if it gets too rough, if ya'll trust me ta know my own limits. Deal?//

//Deal,// Megatron purred and leaned in to brush a kiss over Jazz’s lips. //Why don’t we soak a little longer, then I can shine you up before we find our evening meal?// he offered.

//Sounds good ta me.// After all, Ratchet _was_ protective, still leery of Megatron, and deep in mourning. Jazz didn’t want to upset his friend more over a few well-gotten scrapes to his finish.

~ | ~

Tailgate woke with his back tucked against Wheeljack's side. Beside them, but not touching despite how close he laid, was Cyclonus. Tailgate watched the big mech sleep and let himself relax back into the warmth of the blankets and Wheeljack's frame. It'd been just over two weeks, and Tailgate still didn't know what to think about all this.

Oh, it was awful. Tailgate missed their home. He missed things he hadn't even noticed before. Like the scent of the breeze as it wound around the huts, or sounds of familiar voices, or how he could step out of his hut in the morning and stretch, wave to someone who he had never considered would harm him, and then start his day. Here, the air smelled different- sharper. Tailgate wasn't sure what it was, but it was noticeably different. Galvatron's people lived in caves carved into the tops of the tall fingers of the Spires that jutted up toward the sky from the ground so far below. The walls were rough, and it was easy to see where Cyclonus stood or walked because those were the only vaguely smooth spots on the floor.

In the Spires, sound carried differently. It held an echo-y quality when there was something other than wind or the constant, violent rush and tumble of acidic flood waters from the storms. There were rarely voices, and when there were, Tailgate wished there hadn't been. The mechs here shouted, bellowed, and Tailgate was sure he'd recognized a fair number of voices in the screams that would tear free of rasping vocalizers. They came mostly at night, but no time of day was completely free- and when it was, Tailgate found himself bracing, wincing while he waited for the next one.

He might be a bit low on experience, but Tailgate was only too aware of exactly why mechs he knew, cared for, had grown up around were crying out like that.

Tailgate shivered and listened to the patter of rain striking the ground just beyond Cyclonus' door flap.

The storms were different here too, and that only made things feel more alien. He actually rather liked the softer rhythm. It was like the tail-end of the storms he was familiar with, when they began to lighten up. He supposed the disconnect came when the rain stopped. Tailgate couldn't open his own hut and peer outside at the newly scoured silver of the land. He couldn't grin and wave at a neighbor doing the same. It'd been a little over two weeks, and Tailgate had not set a foot outside Cyclonus' home because it wasn't safe. They couldn't risk Galvatron spotting him or Wheeljack and pressuring Cyclonus about sparking them.

Stars above, but how he wished he could hear the roll of thunder above him. Tailgate shivered again, then jolted as he noticed red optics watching him.

//Are you chilled?// Cyclonus asked in that soft, deep rumble of his.

Tailgate shook his head and felt bad as Wheeljack groaned and stretched behind him. He hadn't meant to wake either of them. //Just...// What could he say? Cyclonus already felt horrible. He controlled his field better than anyone Tailgate had ever been near before, but the guilt and remorse slipped through- like now.

//You are homesick,// Cyclonus said, optics dimming. //I continue to seek others for support, but it is slow work.//

//I'm not mad at you,// Tailgate hurried to reassure him, and he wasn't. Cyclonus was a genuinely kind and thoughtful mech. Tailgate had no idea how he could stand to stay with Galvatron.

Behind him, Wheeljack chuckled softly, but Tailgate heard the bitter note and twisted to look back at him. //I'm mad at the situation still,// Wheeljack assured and sat up to scrub his hands over his helm. //Ain't likely ta change anytime soon though, so don't mind me.//

//Rightfully,// Cyclonus said and sat as well.

Tailgate gave a near-silent sigh and got to his feet too, heading to the storage area to dig out their breakfast while Cyclonus and Wheeljack folded blankets and put the bedding to rights. //I was thinking how the storms are different here,// Tailgate said as he poured three cups full of energon. At least Cyclonus was able to keep them well-fed. So far, he and Wheeljack had access to quality energon for the usual meals. There weren't any snacks, but they weren't starving either. //There's not much thunder here, and I can always hear the flood below us.//

The cups were passed off, and Wheeljack moved to the small chest he'd been given to store his projects in, sipping as he dug out the most recent set of small explosives. Tailgate sat on the cushion he'd made so the rough flooring didn't scuff his aft- or Wheeljack's. Or Cyclonus' even, though Cyclonus had been adorably confused when Tailgate had presented him with it. Since then, however, Cyclonus had brought Tailgate more tubing to render. In fact, he was hoping to finish that rendering today and get to work on a better blanket. Cyclonus had a few, and they served, but they were clearly old and worn.

//In the north,// Cyclonus said as he sipped at his own breakfast, //where the storms gather and break, it is much more violent. If not for the floods below, storm season here would be more productive.//

//Notice there's decent enough huntin', even between the storms,// Wheeljack said, bits and parts littered around him now. Tailgate couldn't make any sense of it, but he'd seen Wheeljack work plenty, even before their abduction. Ratchet and Wheeljack had looked after him some. Most of the clan did, but the bond pair had more time since they'd never had sparklings of their own to mind. Well, before they took in the Dynobots, but by then Tailgate was more independent.

//To the southwest, where the land rises high enough to avoid being flooded,// Cyclonus told them, //there are good herds of moosebot. Predacons hunt there as well, but we know how to avoid them and fight them when needed.//

//You killed that one just before we... arrived,// Tailgate said, still impressed by that fact. Cyclonus was a good hunt leader, he had to be to go up against predacons and keep the kills his hunting party found- not to mention survive. It was a shame he was Galvatron's Second, that Tailgate was a prisoner even if Cyclonus tried to treat them better than that. Tailgate hadn't given much thought to a mate before, not having many prospects in their former clan, but Cyclonus had good qualities. It was hard not to notice, despite the situation.

//That one was unusual,// Cyclonus said and pulled out a cloth to wipe his cup clean. //They are generally farther south this time of year. When this storm ends, I will be going on the hunt.//

Tailgate knew from a previous conversation that they usually hunted more and longer, using each break in the rains to go out. This season, however, everyone had new 'mates', and there had only been one hunt and it'd been short. Cyclonus hadn't even gone.

//And hopefully,// Wheeljack added, holding out one little completed device, //this'll help ya. It's a smallish boom, but it'll injure a leg well enough ta make a quick kill. Just line them up on the ground and then drive the herd over them.//

Cyclonus took the device and inspected it. //And should someone accidentally squeeze such a thing too hard?//

//They'd lose a hand at best,// Wheeljack said, tone dark, and Tailgate shivered at the thought.

All Cyclonus did was nod. //I look forward to a successful hunt and a reason to supply you with more materials.//

Tailgate forced himself to finish his energon, though it had lost all its flavor- or maybe it was him? His tank rolled a bit, and he tried to simply not think for a moment. It was just... frightening. They were preparing to kill other mechs if they had to, and Tailgate thought that maybe he'd seen enough violent death already.

No. Those were thoughts. He wasn't thinking right now.

Outside the rain sounded like it had slowed down, though Tailgate could still hear it against the landing, just loud enough to be audible over the floods crashing around below.

//Tailgate?// Cyclonus called, and Tailgate opened his optics. One hand with finely cared for talons was held toward him- but didn't touch.

//Sorry. Having a moment, I guess.//

Cyclonus' expression went soft, and Tailgate could _feel_ Wheeljack looking at him. //How can I help?//

Tailgate's spark tripped a little over its next pulse, and he gave Cyclonus a wobbly smile before closing his mask. There was no helping, was there? But it was comforting that Cyclonus wanted to. //Do you have any dye? Maybe something blue or purple that I could add to my last batch today?//

//I will find you some if there is any to be had.//

~ | ~

Jazz, for all his ability to move silently, speak in triple entendres, and mold himself to any situation with a smile, was still as transparent as the sky. Ratchet had been gruff with him, meant it when he had shooed Jazz off, but it was still obvious how much Jazz would rather be with Megatron than with Ratchet.

It... stung.

The problem was that Ratchet understood. He really did. It'd been nearly a month now, and Jazz was... Jazz. He wasn't mourning their losses anymore, he was waiting for the moment of revenge, and since he couldn't take that revenge just yet, he had turned his mind -and body- to more pleasant distractions to pass the time. And even Ratchet could admit that Megatron looked like a damn pleasant distraction.

The Chieftain was everything Shadelock was and wasn't. Megatron was steady, considerate of his people, protective. But where he beat out Shadelock entirely was that instead of viewing his people as his offspring who would surely falter if he loosened the reins, Megatron trusted them. He knew, without a hint of doubt, that every member of his clan was capable in their abilities and able to learn even more should they choose. He trusted Ratchet and Jazz, strangers though they had been. Axon had only checked over Ratchet's work the first couple times before nodding and treating him like a visiting healer there to share learning with- neither superior nor subordinate.

The worst part, really, was the waiting, and Ratchet figured maybe that was why he felt abandoned- even if it had been him to send Jazz off. Megatron's clan was healthy and happy, and other than a few acid burns, there was nothing to treat. Axon spent his time training his young apprentice, something Ratchet himself would be doing, but First Aid- Stars...

Poor First Aid. He was quickly shaping up into a good healer, but he was a gentle spark. How was he faring with Galvatron and his beasts? Was he even still alive?

Ratchet quickly and carefully wiped at his face when a new pair of mechs entered the large cavern. He glanced up, but their optics were on where Jazz was allowing himself to be tugged playfully into the tunnel that led toward the oil pools.

//If they're not sparked by the end of the season, I'll volunteer for a week of Thumper chasing duties,// one of the mechs said with a grin.

The other mech laughed, waved to a friend and found a comfortable place to sit and drag out his crafting work. //About time if you ask me,// he said, close enough to Ratchet for him to hear easily enough. //Our Chieftain's well past when he should've taken a mate.//

//But, Glint! True love!// the first cried, drawing attention and laughter from a number of others. Laughter drifted through the cavern as Glint shook his head, chuckling too.

Ratchet bit his tongue against the sharp reply, but only because he was worried. What if Megatron really was falling for Jazz? What if Jazz had actually found someone he could settle in with? Blanket-hopper that he was, Jazz _did_ love deeply. Ratchet knew he did, he just seemed to be one of those rare mechs who had _too much_ love in him. He needed to share it around instead of focus it on one or two mates. Pits, he'd spent any number of nights in bed with Ratchet and Wheeljack. It'd become a habit one season vorns and vorns ago, and Jazz had been very careful to tell them that he enjoyed it, but it wouldn't go further. Ratchet had been deeply amused and teased Jazz about that ego of his, but Jazz had broken sparks before. He loved Ratchet and Wheeljack in his own way, too much to risk them being hurt by him. It was sweet and cemented their friendship even more firmly, but it was, always had been, friendship.

So why the frag did Ratchet feel angry and hurt that Jazz wanted to play with an admittedly attractive mech? Pits, Jazz wasn't going to crawl into Ratchet's bed now anyway! Ratchet would have been deeply insulted if he had tried. Wheeljack was trapped with Galvatron, the last thing Ratchet could do was roll around in the blankets with anyone else.

//Ratchet?// Axon said softly and sat beside him. A small cloth was offered.

Ratchet blinked, then realized what the cloth was for and took it quickly to dry his face. //Thanks.//

//It's hard to see others happy right now.// Axon had his own annoyingly piercing way about him, and Ratchet had to fight not to glare at the other healer. //They're wrong, you know,// he said with a slight nod toward the gossiping mechs. //Megatron enjoys your Jazz, and I believe they've become good friends, but they aren't mates.//

//How do you know?// Ratchet asked and offered the cloth back.

Axon gently pushed his hand back. //Because I know my Chieftain. He's a romantic mech.// Axon shook his head, and Ratchet found himself snickering. He had learned Megatron's history from Jazz.

//Romance over practicality,// Ratchet said and shook his head too. He loved Wheeljack with all his spark, but that had grown between them over time, as they'd found their way in life as mates. //Back-aftwards if you ask me.//

Axon nodded, an amused but indulgent smile on his lips, though it faded away and left him gazing at Ratchet with a serious expression. //I wish for your sake that Jazz was able to be what you need while we wait, but though I've seen him try-//

//He's not.// Ratchet brushed the cloth over his face again. //I'm not angry at him. Not really.// In fact, now he felt like a fool and guilt gnawed at the underside of his already shredded spark.

A warm hand covered Ratchet's knee. //I'd like to try some distraction for you as well. Will you help me with my apprentice?//

//I wouldn't want to tread on your feet,// Ratchet said, though something in him gave a lurch at the thought.

Axon smiled and shook his head a bit. //I'm not that insecure, Ratchet, and I wouldn't ask if I didn't think all three of us could benefit. Will you? If it's not a help for you, then I would not ask you continue.//

Ratchet gave it only a moment's thought. He did need a distraction. He'd been mourning and weeping and hiding and shoving down the desire to rave and rage for too long. //I'd like to try.//

//Good. Then come, because I'm trying to explain how to handle a tilted pod birth, and he seems to be in disbelief. Perhaps having another healer explain will help.// Axon stood and held a hand down to Ratchet.

Ratchet took the offered hand and smiled a small but genuine smile. //Telling him to simply grab the pod, shove it back, and give it a turn made First Aid boggle at me too.//

~ | ~

Wheeljack stood on the edge of the landing, optics on the much calmer flood waters below. It hadn't rained in days, and Wheeljack knew that -had he been home- the post storm season clean-up would be in full swing. The ground would be silver and bright, the days more intense but still cool, and the stars would feel closer at night for the weeks of their absence. Wheeljack knew it wasn't true, but it was as if the sky was washed as clean as the ground, letting the starlight shine all the brighter.

//Jack?// Tailgate called, peeking out through the door flap. //Is he back?//

//Yeah. Saw the huntin' party fly in a little bit ago,// Wheeljack replied, knowing that Cyclonus took his responsibilities seriously, and thus wouldn't be back until the kills had been cleaned and parceled out. Galvatron had flown out for this one too, so Wheeljack felt safe standing outside, playing up his part of dutifully waiting mate. So far, however, no one had dared do more than make a few inappropriate comments toward Cyclonus about them.

A glance back toward the door made Wheeljack sigh quietly. Tailgate was only too obvious in his interest of Cyclonus. It worked in their favor because while Wheeljack was respectful, would go so far as to say he liked Cyclonus well enough, that was as far as he could take it. But Tailgate was _interested_ , and everyone knew it. What raised Cyclonus in Wheeljack's esteem, was that Cyclonus did nothing about it. Tailgate would welcome it, Wheeljack didn't doubt that a single bit. And yet every morning, Wheeljack woke with Tailgate pressed to his side and Cyclonus a hand span away and not touching either of them.

//Think he'll be home before long?// Tailgate asked and dared to edge out the door.

//Prob-// Wheeljack cut himself off as the sound of engines roared to life.

Tailgate vanished back into the cave, and Wheeljack hurried to follow him, though once he reached the door, he turned and held the flap open. //Look busy,// Wheeljack ordered in a sharp whisper, spark giving a lurch as Galvatron's frame came into view with Cyclonus'. Behind him, Tailgate's vents came faster, but a glance back showed he'd sat and gotten his fingers wound back into the line, hook already moving on the blanket he was making.

//Wheeljack,// Cyclonus greeted as he landed.

//Welcome home,// Wheeljack said, optics flicking to Galvatron before dropping. //Chieftain. Will you be honoring us by joining us for the evening meal?// It was the very last thing Wheeljack wanted, but it was polite and made him sound loyal. Uncontested loyalty was what Galvatron expected from everyone.

//Not tonight,// Galvatron said, though he followed Cyclonus inside. //And to think I doubted your choices, Cyclonus.// Tailgate squeaked but didn't protest when Galvatron crouched by him and lifted a corner of the blanket. //You did choose such industrious little mates.//

//I am greatly pleased by them, my leader,// Cyclonus replied.

//Have either bred yet?//

All three of them tensed, but Cyclonus managed to shake his head. //Not yet, though I've heard the stress of the storms can make it difficult.//

Galvatron frowned, but he did nod. //It seems that way. Only a few have sparked, and one of my own failed to carry his.//

Wheeljack bit his lip where it was hidden under his mask, but he didn't dare ask after the mech.

//Too weak then,// Cyclonus said softly. //Better it not waste its carrier's strength and time on it.//

Galvatron nodded and stood. //You always have such an insightful view, Cyclonus.// A heavy hand landed on Cyclonus' shoulder, though Wheeljack figured it was friendly. //I shall leave you to your mates for now. Come to the feast tonight though. I'm pleased they keep you so busy, but my Second should be seen more.//

//Of course, my leader. I will be there.//

Wheeljack didn't relax until Cyclonus turned away from the secured door flap, and then he tensed all over again when Tailgate keened softly. //Tailgate?// He and Cyclonus reached Tailgate at the same time, but Cyclonus froze with his hand hovering shy of touching.

//He's so scary!// Tailgate gasped as he covered his face and leaned into Wheeljack's touch. //And we have to go to a feast? I- I mean, I'm glad the hunt went so well, but... Why'd he come here?// he asked on a whisper.

//I believe he was checking on me,// Cyclonus said and finally rested a hand on Tailgate's shoulder. //He was most impressed with Wheeljack's pyrotechnics. The hunt went very well. Faster than expected. He was asking after what you did for me, however, and was amused by you 'softening up' my home. I believe he is mostly pleased. You need not fear.//

//Until he wants you to spark us right in front of him.//

//No,// Wheeljack said, softly but firmly and looked up at Cyclonus. //If it comes to any of that. Take me. I can get through something like that and make it look like I like it.//

But Cyclonus was already shaking his head. //It will not come to that. He may find my... prudishness entertaining, but he also respects it well enough that I do not believe we would be forced to put on such a display.// He looked toward the door, and Wheeljack's spark thrummed with anxiety again. //We will get through tonight, and not many more. I promise you. The time comes.//

~

The feast went the way Cyclonus expected it to, and he was quick to bring Tailgate and Wheeljack home when things went from raucous to utterly depraved. He was slightly gratified to see others quietly leaving with their captured mechs as well, though that did nothing for the ones being abused. It had taken Tailgate and Wheeljack a while to settle, but now they slept beside him, their systems quiet.

Cyclonus couldn't sleep. His mind remained on those who were likely still being hurt. Things never should have come to this, and Cyclonus often fell to berating his own cowardice. _He_ should have done something far sooner. He should have spoken against the decimation of an entire clan. He should have risked his life to stop this before it ever happened rather than risk it now with so many innocents caught in the crossfire.

A small sound snapped Cyclonus from his thoughts, and he bolted upright.

//I come in peace,// a voice whispered from the darkness above, and Cyclonus looked up, tensing even more when he spotted the small red optics.

//Do you?// Cyclonus asked and rose, placing himself between the intruder and his captives.

The mech drifted down, and it wasn't until he entered the dim light of the single glow stone Cyclonus had left out that Cyclonus saw him.

//A speaking turbohawk?//

//No. I'm Laserbeak, and I was sent to find those your clan stole away so dishonorably.// Laserbeak perched on a chest, head tilted. //Megatron sent me. Imagine my surprise when I discovered that not everyone here is a monster.//

Cyclonus frowned, but perhaps this was a boon. //Will your Chieftain help me free these mechs?//

Red optics glinted. //No. But you will help him.//

How such a tiny mech could sound so very threatening was a surprise, but Cyclonus was willing enough to do whatever it took to get the captured mechs free. //What is his plan?//

//What's going on?// Wheeljack asked, voice a sharp, startled whisper.

Cyclonus stepped aside so Wheeljack could see Laserbeak, and Laserbeak dipped his head. //Greetings, Wheeljack. Your mate is well and waiting for you.//

Wheeljack clapped his hands over his mask, but it only barely muffled the relieved sob. //Ratch...//

//Jazz too.//

//No others?// Wheeljack asked, crawling forward after tucking the blanket better around the still-sleeping Tailgate.

//No. Our condolences,// Laserbeak replied, and he sounded genuine to Cyclonus' audials. //But Megatron has a plan. Sit,// he added to Cyclonus. //I'm not straining my neck for this.//

Cyclonus obeyed and laced his fingers together to hide how they began to tremble. It was going to happen, and he would have more help. //I will do whatever is needed.//

//I know, which is why I showed myself to you. Now, both of you, pay attention because I do not have much time.//

**Author's Note:**

> Learn more about what LD76 is up to [here on DW](https://ladydragon76.dreamwidth.org/334490.html) for more info on me and what I'm up to!


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